


Worst Idea Ever

by diggingupophelia (containedmultitudes)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/containedmultitudes/pseuds/diggingupophelia





	Worst Idea Ever

Title: Worst Idea Ever  
Author: sapphiretragedy/diggingupophelia/containedmultitudes

 

The Doctor knew that knocking on the door of the Noble household was a Bad Idea. In fact, it was probably his Worst Idea Ever. However, this did not stop him. His brain, as large and developed as it was, could not seem to signal his chuck-clad feet to stop advancing toward the large, red door. (Who paints a front door red, anyway? It was weird. And he knew from weird!)

His large, developed brain also failed to restrain his hand from knocking on said weird, red door. He knocked - _Why the bloody hell did he knock?_ \- and took a step back from the door.

He should have phoned Sylvia or Wilf first; there was a danger that she would answer the door, thus putting her in danger of remembering _before_ he could do what was necessary to allow her to remember and live. (Though, he secretly hoped that this wouldn’t go pear shaped like the chickens. Sometimes, he still pulled stray feathers from his coat pocket.) But, he was excited. He could have her back! And so, here he was, toying with danger by knocking on an obnoxiously red door.

The Doctor knocked again when no one answered. A more rational person, in the throes of inner conflict and internal struggle, would have turned and walked back to his TARDIS, thanking his lucky stars for the universe’s gift of a second chance; however, the Doctor was bouncing with anticipation, rationale floating somewhere in the air near the vicinity of his brain, decidedly out of reach, so he knocked again.

And then, Donna pulled the door open.

“Hello,” the Doctor said, cheerfully. He had to move quickly. He had to get to work before she remembered. He didn’t give her time to speak. He just walked past her and into the tiny living room. He made himself at home, sitting on the sofa – the same sofa that Wilf and Sylvia had occupied the last time he’d been in this house, a year ago in Donna’s time.

“Excuse me. You can’t just barge in here like you own the place. Who the bloody hell are you?”

The Doctor extended his hand. “John Smith,” he smiled, “pleased to meet you. I’m conducing a survey. I have a few questions to ask, then I’ll be on my way. Market research can be very time consuming, but it’s a necessary evil. We’ve got to give the consumers what they want.”

Donna crossed her arms. She did not look impressed. She should, though. He’d made that story up on the spot. He hadn’t really thought about what he would say to get to this point. “What I want,” she said, icily, “is you to get the bloody hell out of my house.”

When she crossed her arms, the ring she wore caught the light, causing it to sparkle brilliantly. He was relived. He thought he was going to have to search for it. This isn’t to say he had anything against a search – searches were good fun, but, he wanted to get things going and get Donna back.  
“That’s a beautiful ring,” he said, laying it on think. “I love the way it catches the light.”

Donna looked down at her hand. “Oh, this old thing,” she said, smiling. “I’ve had it for ages. No idea where it came from. But, I can’t remember not having it a –“ she stopped mid-word. She pulled her hand toward her, tucking it protectively next to her body. “You’re not going to steal it are you?”

“If I were – and I’m not, just to be clear – do you really think I’d answer that question?” he asked, unable to keep the biting sarcasm from his voice. He really hated stupid questions. “But, I’d love to have a closer look.”

Donna took a step away from him. She looked slightly alarmed. “Get out of my house. I know what you look like you, you skinny streak of … of … bacon! Yeah, that’s right; you look like _meat_.”

“ I rather like bacon. I’ll choose to take that as a compliment. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve heard that one.”

Donna’s jaw flapped rather unattractively. “Do I know you?” she asked. “I’m getting the weirdest feeling of déjà-vu. And –“ her hands snapped up to her head and she hissed, “bloody hell, that _hurts_.”

It was then that Sylvia came through the door - _Really, who paints a door red?_ he wondered, again – “What are you doing to her?” Sylvia shrieked, dropping her bags of groceries on the ground. A veritable garden rolled every which direction in the living room.

“I found a way to bring her back. Just give me a minute.”

Donna fell to her knees with the pain. “Make it stop,” she cried desperately.

Sylvia started hitting the Doctor frantically. “Just what do you think you’re doing coming around here? You’re killing her! Are you mad? You told us …”

“Stop hitting me,” he yelped more than he would have liked and rubbed at his head. Sylvia had great aim. “I know what I said. But that was before I figured out how to fix it.” He knelt down next to Donna and placed a hand on her head. “Donna,” he said, “everything is going to be fine. But I need you to give me your hand. I need you to give me the ring.”

He didn’t wait for Donna to move her hand toward him; he yanked it toward him and pulled the gaudy thing off of her finger. He was sure it hurt; but, she didn’t notice due to the insufferable pain in her head, which was most likely caused by some brilliant neural expansion. He stopped himself mid-thought. He didn’t have time to marvel at the science of it just yet.

He pointed his Sonic Screwdriver at the ring and waited. When Donna was still kneeling on the floor with her head in her hands, he switched the settings and tried again. The pain started to dissipate. “Donna, it’s me – The Doctor,” he said. “Do you remember?”

“The Doctor. I –“ Donna looked around the house. “But, this isn’t the TARDIS.” She pulled herself up from the ground and stood on shaky legs.

“No. This isn’t the TARDIS. Do you remember what happened?”

“Davros. Daleks. You were _naked_!”

“I was not!”

“There in the TARDIS. I saw … everything. You, you –“

The Doctor took a peek at Sylvia from the corner of his eye. He certainly didn’t want to have that conversation in front of Donna’s mother – even if it wasn’t him. “There’s plenty of time to talk about that later.” He smiled and pulled Donna into a hug. “You’re back. And you didn’t explode like the chickens – and oh, this is bloody brilliant. I told that mad scientist on Frankensteinium that this wouldn’t work. Who would have thought that combining settings on the screwdriver would cause new neural pathways to develop so that you could house a timelord consciousness in a human body and _live_? It’s never been done before and you’ve got all your memories back. Well,all the good ones. And I hope they’re all good. But, then you’ve gone and remembered me naked. Well, it wasn’t _me_ , really. But it was a version of me and we’ve all the same bits and … that’s going to make travel on the TARDIS awkward –“

And then his speech was cut off when two hand clasped the side of his face, rather tightly, and pulled him forward for a big, wet kiss on the lips. He was stunned silent. “I knew you’d find a way to bring me back. But, if you would have waited for a whole five minutes before you did your Jedi mind-tricks, I could have told you. I was trying to tell you. But, Doctor always knows best. But, the DoctorDonna is far cleverer than you! Really? Frankensteinium? That doesn’t matter. The ring was the key. It was formed during the process, which you would have known if you would have waited ten whole seconds!”

“I’m sor-“ he started.

“Oi! No need to apologize. You found a way to bring me back. Now, I’ve got to pack. Did I leave my blue jacked – the one from the Ood – in the wardrobe? I can’t find it anywhere and it is the warmest coat I have. I’d like to have it if you take me to anymore planets that are made of ice.” There was a slight pause as she took a shallow breath. “What are you talking about chickens for? This is certainly not wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey stuff, Doctor. This was far more serious.”

“Donna remembers. And she’s not dead,” Sylvia muttered dumbly from the corner. She looked as white as the walls.

“Yes, Mum. I’m fine. I’m going to be all right,” she went to her mother and gave her a big hug. “But, I’m going off with him again. It’s going to be brilliant! You’ll see.”

“Oi, you,” she barked over her shoulder at the Doctor, “do you have that coat or not? I’ve got suitcases all ready to go. Been packed and ready for _something_ for ages. I just couldn’t figure out what. I guess, deep down, I knew you’d come back for me.”

“I’m not your butler,” he sounded petulant, but he was more than happy to carry all her things to the TARDIS. He had her back.

Donna let go of her mum and put her hands on her hips. “You left me here for a bloody year. I’ve been prattling on about nonsense with the girls, feeling nothing for no one, forgetting everything you taught me because you wouldn’t listen for ten seconds. That means you get to carry the bags. And I’ll hear no argument.” She smiled.

“It’s so good to have you back. There’s so much to tell you. I’ve been to so many places. I’ve met so many people – well, life forms. Not everyone is a person, proper. That’s an Earth term. And I –“ A sharp sting to the cheek stopped him this time.

“And silence. You’re not going to talk until after we’ve indulged in glorious spa treatments on some tropical alien planet. I’ll thank you not to take me back to Midnight. I don’t need any phantom aliens on my first trip back out. Got it? Good. “

\- Fin.  



End file.
